Texting to Nothing
by Jamie Legend
Summary: This isn't a story about falling in love or finding out that love was there all along. This is a story about falling apart and finding out there's no love in it for you. /Lovino xHis phone and memories. I might continue this, if the crowd likes it! For now, it is what it is. Sad, lonely, and depressed. Might develop to something happier. Might. Rated T for Lovino's mouth. Enjoy! /
1. Chapter 1

His slender fingers opened the phone by pressing the same pass code 'O4O2'. It's a simple pass code really, a date he will never forget. As he quickly browsed through his contacts, Lovino opened his most precious contact, and sent him a simple, quick text.

_Morning. The coffee machine broke down again. I told you to fucking fix it. And you didn't._

Lovino threw the phone away then, watching the sleek little phone bounce over the messy covers of his bed, as he got up groggily, with a small yawn and a sigh. Why was he up in this damn hour? It really made no sense to him. He really should be asleep. For at least another nine hours or so. At least nine.

_Ugh this bread is so fucking stale. I'll break my teeth eating it._

Lovino's bread wasn't stale. Not one bit. It was fresh, still a bit warm from the microwave, with nicely smeared jam on it. It was actually pretty good. He just wanted a reaction, of any sort.

_The traffic is horrible. I'm stuck in this car for fifteen minutes now, and I swear, it will be spring when this fucking line moves._

Lovino tapped his finger impatiently over the steering wheel, his eyes narrowed. He hated traffic jams. He really did. He always preferred the open road, the travel.. He always wanted to travel. But somehow he never got the chance to travel.

_That girl from work is pregnant. Again. How can someone get knocked up every fucking time they decide to frick fack? Seriously tho. I'll buy her condoms when she comes back from maternity leave I swear._

Lovino's fingers ran over the keyboard, as he neatly typed in the manuscript, his eyes slightly misty. He hated writing sad things or something like that. That's why he texted him, again. His phone didn't do its usual ding, as to announce there was a new text waiting for him. It didn't even buzz. What a rude man, not replying to his texts.

_Apparently, the coffee machine at work is down for maintenance. What load of bullshit. They just want us out of the coffee room, so that my boss can screw every new assistant. I can't wait to be a boss._

Lovino's annoyed eyes scanned through his work place, over the four other people neatly typing in the manuscripts. The moment he's done with this one, he's taking it to the printers and getting it done, and then off to proof reading he goes.

_This story is bullshit. Why the fuck am I reading this load of crap? Even that Twilight ass wipe is better than this. Ugh._

Lovino often complained about his work. And who wouldn't? Reading teen fiction really isn't the thing he wanted to read. He liked more mature books, smart books, how he used to call them. But nobody wrote those kinds of books anymore.

_I'm heading home now and I'm buying a new coffee machine you twat. _

His phone showed him that his recipient had seen all of the messages. Maybe he's just busy, Lovino told himself as he went through rows, and rows of coffee machines. Maybe he's just having a hectic day at work, or at home.. Yeah. That's it.

_IMAGE_

_Look how fucking awesome my new coffee machine is. It's so bitching._

The coffee machine was quite cutting edge, all black and shiny. Just how he liked his appliances. Lovino went back home then, the coffee machine in a bag on the driver's seat. Eerily quiet it was in the car, since Lovino's phone wasn't blowing up with all the texts he never seemed to receive

.

_Ahh, fucking finally. This coffee is pretty damn good._

Lovino wrote that as he had made himself a nice big cup of coffee along with some brownies. He perched on his couch, with the phone in one hand and coffee in the other. Now with time, he started to send more texts. It was a special day after all.

_You know what day it is, right? We met on this day. It was a really lovely day. _

_Yeah, I know, the weather was pure shit, but the weather there always is shit. _

_You acted like a bloody idiot all the time. _

_But a lovely idiot. _

_Are you there? _

_I saw that you've seen my texts. _

_Why aren't you texting me back?_

_Did I say something wrong?_

_Are you mad at me?_

_Please respond._

_I need to hear your voice. _

_Please._

_I don't even know why you're doing this. You said you won't do this anymore. But you're doing it again. Why did you have to lie?_

_You know how I hate liars and people who beak their promises._

_Why do I still love you then?_

_Huh?_

Lovino stopped texting him then, his caramel eyes locked on the screen. He didn't see these messages. He didn't see them. The time he checked his phone was four hours ago. If he deletes them, he would have never saw them. So he quickly got to work, deleting every needy, every text that showed how scared he was. Even if the words didn't exactly say it, he was scared. Horribly scared.

That's why Lovino deleted all of his text messages, threw his phone away, and curled up on the couch. Oh did he love that silly German man, the man who played with his heart, made him believe, made him happy. Oh how he loved that smile, that laugh, that everything that came along with him. He loved him so dearly, so passionately, so much he couldn't really handle it.

Their relationship was strong, passionate, intense. They were everything to each other, and with all that fire there, sooner or later sparks flew and they would fight. They would yell. But somehow they always got back together.

Yet that one night, Lovino said something wrong, and he took it the wrong way. And no matter what he said afterwards, nothing changed. Nobody changed. Nothing happened anymore. They were cold. Silent.

All Lovino did was text him again and again. Simple, stupid text messages, to show he still cared, that he still thought about him. Some days he would send up to twenty to thirty messages. Others, he wouldn't send anything, nothing for a week, maybe three. Then something would push him to do it again.

So sensitive are our souls. They feel every emotion, every picture, every little thing. They overexaturate. They see too much, hear too much, feel too much for their own good. And then they wonder how could they let themselves be hurt. How could they let themselves feel so much, so passionately, that now, once it's over, they sit there, broken.

A little bit chipped, a little bit rough around the edges.

His phone dinged, a quiet soft sound against his tears, against the sadness that was running into him. Lovino quickly got up and went to his phone, his fingers shaking. The front screen said he got a text. A text from him. Finally. Finally.

Even if the message wasn't personal, even if the message said nothing special, it still made his heart flutter, still made him feel so much, think so much.. Oh, was he in love, so desperately, so horribly.

His fingers shook as he opened the phone's home screen, and then tapped on the message icon.

_Please stop texting me, Lovi._


	2. Chapter 2 - What followed after a year

_/ Hello! I know it's been a year, but I just had to come back to this story with another chapter. I doubt this will become a yearly thing, but I simply love to write about Lovino and his inner turmoil. I hope you guys enjoy this next instalment! Big thanks to Jessica, for being a lovely beta with this! Viel Dank! / _

His slender fingers opened the phone. This new one didn't use a code, and even if it had, Lovino decided not to put one in. The clock on top of the screen showed his usual time to get up, so after a few rounds of Candy crush, Lovino groggily got out of bed.

The coffee machine buzzed softly in the morning light, as Lovino rubbed soothing circles on the back of his neck, rubbing away the folds and knots that had formed in the flesh hiding under the olive skin. There were dark circles under his caramel eyes – he was up late into the night, finding pleasure in writing. It's been years since he started writing, but he decided to try again.

His ears picked up the soft sound of a message coming in from his bedroom, but Lovino didn't go to get itinstantly. After all, surely it was no one important this early in the morning. Who would text him this early?

His eyes widened ever so slightly. Ah, right, his boyfriend might be texting him. Good morning bae, or something crappy like that. Such crappy nicknames popped out through the year.

He never called _him _bae, and even if he did, the other would probably throw some lame joke about the affectionate nickname.

The Italian shook his head in attempt to get rid of those kinds of thoughts. After all, there was no use in thinking about him. If every single person thought about every single person that left their lives, the human race would have becomeextinct like a billion years ago.

Were there people on earth a billion years ago? Huh, he should really look it up.

His eyes flickered to the machine when it stopped buzzing and he carefully retrieved his drink from the machine to take a tiny sip. Ah, it really felt nice… A tiny bit bitter, but then again, life was a bitter pile of shit, and then you die.

How fun.

With the coffee left on the dinner table to cool, Lovino heated up some bread in the microwave since he never really bothered with buying new bread, spread some butter atop and said 'Done'. With all that, he went back to his bedroom, got his phone and sat at the dinner table to enjoy his simple breakfast.

Lovino's bread went good with his bitter coffee, and his fingers would run along the edge of his mug ashe opened the app to check out the message. It was from his boyfriend, and the other was simply wishing him a good morning. Lovino replied lazily, with barely any heart in it. He wasn't a morning person, that's for sure.

He never understood those: 'It's a start of a new day! Rejoice! Joy to the world' bullshit. For him, world was grey in the mornings. Not black, white, or bursting with colour. It was grey. The colours would blend together and the morning fog would drown them out until it all looked grey and unnoticeable.  
>People were drowsy as well. Lovino could see them from his window, with their noses buried in their scarves, hands tucked deep into their pockets, and their walk sluggish, yet fast enough to get from point A topointB. They would yawn, and their eyes would close, making perfect slits in their skin. They were tired, and they were just as grey as the mornings were.<p>

Lovino's phone made an irritating sound.

Then another.

A few seconds of silence, before another sound pierced through the greyness of his morning.

Lovino chose to ignore all two... or was it three of them, and instead finished his coffee and bread, before he went to the bathroom. He was too lazy to shower, so after dressing, he sprayed a heavy amount of deodorant around himself, combed his hair, and went to grab his briefcase.

Only then did he check out the messages he received.

They were sweet, caring, and, most of all, dripping with love that the other had for him. Lovino was painfully awareof how much the other loved him. He just chose to not accept it. Even if he was the one that started the relationship, for him it was just enough as it is.

The distance between them helped Lovino feel safer. If he didn't invest his heart into this relationship, it wouldn't get broken as…

… as it had when he was with him.

Lovino still remembered the pain. Fuck, it only had been a year. A year since his heart was shattered into millions of tiny little pieces and thrown on the ground to stay there. He thought he would never be loved again if it weren't for the man in his life.

But he was loved now.

And after sending a simple reply, Lovino had set off to work.

The young man had changed companies and he started to work in a smaller publishing company which was more oriented towards smaller books, smarter books, deeper books. Books that went towards the soul and the insides of it, rather than the superficial life that surrounded them. The books that spoke of the heroism of the soul, rather than adventures of the heart.

Also there wasn't any lady that he had to buy condoms for. That reminded him that he never really thought about what happened to the women from his previous company. Had she given birth to a new baby? Was the baby healthy?

Maybe he should check Facebook out to see.

After arriving to work, Lovino silenced his phone and went along with his day. Another page after another, a red marker in hand, Lovino proofread the story, added his snatty remarks. He liked the author of this scrip, a young girl with bright ideas. He hoped she would get far since her work did focus on the emotions rather on the actions. He just really hoped she would blow out globally as well.

His day went on like any other day would, with nothing too special about it.

And just like every other day, after proof reading, chatting the tiniest bit about the stupidest things with his co-workers, Lovino got in his car and started his drive back home. It was a Friday night, and despite his boyfriend's invitation, Lovino decided not to drop by his place.

Before, at the very start of the relationship that is, he used to do that all the time. But now, he was getting easily bored of the other's company. It's not that the guy wasn't interesting – he was interesting. He really was. But he wasn't interesting enough for Lovino. Nothing about him spiked his attention and wanted to converse more.

But he did enjoy the physical side of it, the simple, quiet cuddling that the other brought on, but nothing other than that. Instead, he preferred to be alone, with his books, with his music, and most of all, to be left alone to enjoy his own company. He just couldn't feel emotionally connected to his current boyfriend at all. As if they were two completely different parts of a puzzle that could never, no matter how hard they tried, fit together.

That's why he simply got into his shabby car and started on his drive home.

The evenings were the special time for Lovino. Whenever the city would get covered with a thick cover of darkness, Lovino found solitude in it. Something about the darkness and the city lights made the night so very interesting for him.

There was never a lot of stars in the city. But Lovino often spent his time as a child on a farm, so he could almost imagine all those sparkling diamonds spilt over the pitch black sky, illuminating it ever so softly…

It was the stars and the moon that reminded him that they all, in fact, shared the same sky. Everyone who ever lived anywhere in the world, had once gazed up to the sky and seen the same stars, the same intricate webs of galaxies just as he was seeing them right now.

Maybe someone, somewhere was looking up to the sky and thinking just the same thing.

As he went to his apartment building, with his eyes targeted towards the sky, his phone vibrated. Ah. Probably his boyfriend, asking if he came home from work or not. He was always sweet and he seemed to have memorized his schedule by now. It was slightly creepy, but could have been a lot worse when you think about it.

Still, there was an unsettling feeling, deep in his gut, that forced him to take out his phone. To see if the message was really from him, to see if it was the usual message he got when he left work.

The phone number that displayed was an unfamiliar one. Maybe some old relative got a new phone number so he or she was informing him of the new phone number. Maybe it was his brother, drunk texting him from a friend's phone or some stupid thing like that.

_I miss you._

Lovino stopped dead in his tracks, and stared at the phone with wide, caramel eyes. No way. No fucking way.

It wasn't his relative.

It wasn't his brother.

It definitely wasn't his brother.

Because the display picture from the app clearly showed the smiling face of the man that broke his heart. The smile, the smile that he adored so much and could spend hours watching was smiling up to him from the text that he had sent him.

He contacted Lovino.

Lovino had, after a year of silence, avoidance and heartache, received a message from the man he missed more than anything in the whole wide world. There was a message, message that the other took a few seconds to send to him. To him of all people, he reached out and told him that he missed him.

_I miss you so much._

The second message came as a shock.

Why would he send him two messages after so long? Was he drunk? Was he challenged for a dare? Was he bored? What had urged him to contact him, to reach out to him? Why?

Had he really… really missed him?

Lovino felt his whole heart ache and tug itself together, as if ripping itself apart from side to side. Impossible... Im-fucking-possible.

He missed him, and he missed him so much. Of all people, he missed Lovino? Was he coming around, was he finally realising that Lovino really was good for him?

That he really was good enough as Lovino had so dearly hoped he was?

Lovino stood and stared at the message on his phone in wonder. People milled around him on the street, and he completely forgot about his destination as he simply stared at the phone in his hand. He missed him.

Lovino had long ago deleted his number, a tiny attempt of moving over him. He was never good with numbers so it would be close to impossible for him to remember the others full number. And he still had his number? Even though he was the one to ask him never to text him again? What in the fuck was going on even?

_I was just thinking about you._

Another message, so soon took him again by surprise, and his heart was beating too loud in his ears for him to calm down and get a grip of what was going on.

He missed him, and he was even thinking about him.

What was going onthrough his mind that he wanted to text Lovino? Had he seen something that reminded him of Lovino? Has he been hurting over the need for Lovino, for his company? Was the other just in love with Lovino as he was with him?

Lovino's cheek turned a soft shade of red and only then did he realise that he was happier to see _his _messages then the ones that came from his boyfriend. The man that didn't rip his heart out. The man that took care of him when he was hurting. The man who was such a better choice than the other, was nowhere near as needed to Lovino as his ex was.

He needed him.

And it wasn't just any type of pain – it wasn't an imaginable pain. It was physical, soul shattering, tissue ripping, bone cracking pain, and his skin felt like it was being electrocuted all from one simple thought. A thought that he could be so easily reeled right back in, right back into the mess that came with that horrible, toxic, and the most wonderful man. It was scary, and yet so thrilling in the same moment. It was just like jumping off a bridge with a bungee cord on it. You knew you had some safety, yet you were plummeting down to the water.

Just, Lovino wasn't sure if this bungee cord would work and would snap him back to safety.

His fingers finally moved and he replied to the other.

_I missed you too. _

_So much._

Lovino wasn't the one to bear out his emotions, his heart, his raw feelings out to anyone, but for this situation, for this moment, he was ready to do so. And it took all of his strength to start moving again towards his home.

The other hasn't written him a reply, so it was a perfect moment for Lovino's mind to wander. To think of those amazing eyes, that lovely smile and the most annoying Germanic accent. To think of those brilliant ideas, and the sweetest words, along with the most cruel of all actions. To think of those broken promises and the lovely, sweet words just for him.

It hurt – it hurt to know that he felt more for something that was broken, destroyed and gone rather than for something that was functioning and working, rather than…

… Rather than his current boyfriend.

And then it hit him. It hit him why he decided to go along with it and date the new guy. Because he gave him something that Lovino always craved, something he always wanted.

Validation of existence.

Life, as Lovino knew it, was uninteresting. If Lovino was to disappear, no one would particularly notice out of his family. His existence was tiny. Insignificant.

Yet, when you are a part of someone else's life, and you make a big part of it, then you get a validation of existence.

Lovino was bad with friendships. He really was. Relationships, on the other hand, were a lot easier since the Italian felt the burning need to be loved, to be wanted and to be desired. He always felt it but simply pushed it down until it wasn't as strong and as profound.

Until he met his ex.

His ex drove him mad with want and desire to simply _touch _him or to be _touched_. He wanted affection, no, he craved for it with every cell, fibre, muscle of his whole being, he craved for the other to want him and need him as much as he needed him.

But why didn't he want his new boyfriend as much?

He was a lot gentler, much softer and safer than his ex was. He was soft, warm and caring and he showed it always, louder than anyone. He wasn't possessive or jealous.

And maybe that's what Lovino wanted.

His phone vibrated and Lovino almost dropped it in the elevator in attempt to pick it up. Once he had, he quickly turned the messaging app on to check his messages.

It wasn't from his ex.

Of course it wouldn't be. He must have gotten scared. Maybe the message he recived were meant for someone else... Maybe Lovino's number was a misdial, a mistake...

It was from his boyfriend. His lovely, caring boyfriend to whom Lovino barely paid any attention to. The lovely man sending him lovely messages which Lovino could barely stomach. He wasn't strong enough to want him as much as he wanted his ex. His lovely...

And Lovino never manage to forget or to get over a man so amazing. How could he?

He missed him after all! He was missing him…

But...

He could disappear whenever he wanted to, and then,Lovino would be alone. So utterly...

.. alone.

Maybe...

Maybe he should be alone. If he wasn't good enough for his ex, he couldn't be good enough for anyone. Maybe he would be. One day. One day when he would be wholeagain.

And, when that day comes, he would embrace it. He would embrace the day when his thoughts weren't focused on the man who broke his heart but on someone who would give him love the way he wanted it. The unconditional, the most amazing love, love that Lovino craved. He would get the love he really wanted, the love his body yearned for.

And when that day would come around, Lovino was certain he would be happy as possible. Just when that day comes...

Just when that day comes he would be happy. On that day, Lovino wouldn't wake up with a sick feeling laying in the pit of his stomach. Maybe on that day he would be able to connect to people the way he always wanted to would make a good, valid connection, and his heart would finally be able to go out from the cage he carefully placed it in, in his poor, weak attempt to save it.

Maybe someone would and could help him get earlier to that day.

Maybe it would be his ex. Maybe he would come around, accept him with all his flaws and all his neediness. Maybe.

That night, Lovino broke up with his current boyfriend, who also became his ex. The man was surprisingly... understanding of Lovino and didn't blame him for deciding he wanted his time off. After all, Lovino had been showing all the signs of wanting to leave him, from not coming over when they agreed to, from ignoring his messages for hours on and with silly excuses. It was expected – but the other seemed fine with it. Maybe he already had come to grips with it?

His ex wasn't replying to the messages after those three.

And it was just as expected. Lovino was alone with his memories, alone with his phone, alone with his books.

Because this was never the story of falling in love or finding out that love was there all along.

It's a story about falling apart and finding out there is no love in it for you.


End file.
